Wherever I look there is nothing but the image of death.
Nations and empires flourish and decay, By turns command, and in their turns obey.
Thus all things altered. Nothing dies. And here and there the unbodied spirit flies.
Let others praise ancient times; I am glad I was born in these.
So long as you are secure you will count many friends; if your life becomes clouded you will be alone.
If the art is concealed, it succeeds.